Self Preservation
by Blue Zombie
Summary: Ellie does coke with Craig.
1. Chapter 1

I couldn't help thinking about Craig being upstairs and how much I'd missed him. I knew he was seeing little miss Manny, I knew. And I knew I wasn't really okay with that but there was nothing I could do. She'd won. Like it was some sick contest for his affection. Whatever.

I started the coffee. I kind of liked making coffee, it was ritualistic. Measure the water, count out the scoops, put the filter in just so. I tightened my robe's belt around me, hugged myself. I shouldn't really be wanting Craig. I had Jesse. I liked Jesse. I really really liked him. That had to be enough.

Marco came downstairs, sleepy, his black hair sticking up in little tufts like a bird.

"Morning," he said and kissed my cheek. I smiled.

"Good morning," I said, and poured him a cup of coffee. We were so domestic. It was fun. It was sort of play-acting but still, we both liked it. I made the coffee and he made Italian dinners and we rented DVD's and drank wine at night because we were all grown up now. All grown up.

He raised his eyebrow watching me pour two cups of coffee, knowing full well who the other one was for. Well, he could raise his eyebrow all he wanted. I'd enjoy Craig while he was here. Carefully, so carefully, I carried my two cups of coffee to the bottom of the stairs and held them tight as Manny ran by me.

"I'm late," she said as she rushed past. I watched her go, a blur of shiny black hair and tight jeans. Manny was beautiful, I could admit that. That was all I could see about her that could attract Craig to her. Maybe he was shallow. Maybe he was all about looks.

Up the stairs and down the hall to his room. Craig's room. It had previously been our spare room. Just a nothing room with a spare dresser and a spare bed. Now it was magic. It was occupied by my favorite person, my most beloved and most missed person-Craig Manning. How I wished he could be my love love. But of course I was chronically denied all that I desired.

Little knock at the door and I came in. He was laying down on the bed dressed only in jeans. I caught my breath. He was so goddamn sexy I couldn't stand it, couldn't stand that Manny got to have him and I didn't. He sat up when I came in, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, sniffling, reaching for a tissue on the bedside table. I handed him the cup of coffee I'd brought and he thanked me, and I noticed how tired he looked. I noticed his puffy and bloodshot eyes. His constantly running nose.

I was going to leave. There was no reason for me to stay. On the dresser by the door I saw the little packet of white powder. I was sheltered and naïve but I knew it was drugs, probably coke. I looked at him with wide eyes. Drugs? It didn't surprise me. I didn't know if that was sad or not.

"What is this?" I said, looking at him, holding the packet between my fingers.

"I didn't think things would get this bad so fast," he said, and despite the wide eyed innocent look I knew he was lying, or about to lie. My mother didn't raise a fool.

"Craig, what's bad? Are you doing coke?" I said, peering at him, trying to make him tell me the truth, although I knew he wouldn't. I knew him.

"Manny is," he said, holding the coffee cup close to his chest, holding it in both hands like he wanted its warmth.

"Manny?" I said, setting the baggie of coke back down where I found it, sipping my coffee, "Craig, Manny is in high school. She's a cheerleader. She hangs around with Emma Nelson. I don't exactly think she's doing cocaine. You, on the other hand, are practically a rock star. You go from city to city touring, living that life. And, and, you have a mental illness, which predisposes you to drug use. So tell me again, who's doing the coke?"

He swallowed hard and hung his head, sighed. I waited. I could wait him out. Then he looked up at me with that look, those eyes. I felt the tight feeling around my heart. _Why didn't you choose me? _

"Okay, Ellie, it's me. It's mine, but it's no big deal, I swear,"

Drugs. Cocaine. It didn't surprise me. I picked up the little baggie again and went over to him, sat next to him.

"Why?" I said, not sure of what to say. He shrugged.

"I don't do it much. It's just like a little pick me up, a confidence boost, you know?"

I nodded, sipped more of my coffee. It had cooled considerably. We were so perfect together, me and Craig. I thought that that summer when we hung out everyday. I missed that summer. I missed him.

"Well, what's it like?" I said, holding the bag up and gazing at it. White powder. It looked like flour or confectioner's sugar.

"It's a rush. It's pretty cool," he said, still tentative, not sure where I stood on the issue. Craig was all about self preservation sometimes. Now was one of those times. That was okay.

"Yeah?" I said, my tone softening, curious. I looked at my bare thigh next to his denim one, I could feel the rough material of his jeans against my skin. I saw the light freckles across his shoulders. I saw the fullness of his lips, the slant of his nose. I still had him memorized.

"Uh, yeah," he said, and smiled a little. I could still smell the hint of his cologne from last night.

"Can I try some?" I said, dropping my hand with the baggie of coke down on his thigh. I could feel the muscles beneath his clothes.

"Yeah. Sure," he said, and scrambled to get out the supplies. I watched him and smiled my tiny wicked smile. I had to admit to myself that this probably wasn't a good idea. But I wasn't really filled with good ideas when Craig was around.


	2. Chapter 2

I sat on the bed and watched Craig pull the mirror and razor blades from his jacket pocket. I watched how the light looked on the smooth skin of his back. He was pale, he'd always been pale. Now he had that rock star playing clubs at night sleeping during the day pallor. He looked good but he didn't look healthy. I could count his ribs. I'd never seen him this skinny.

He looked at me nervously and I read what I wanted to in that look. He didn't know if he wanted to share this with me. He didn't know if he should be doing this but he couldn't stop. He told me it was no big deal but I knew Craig. Everything was a big deal.

I wasn't worried about Marco. I knew he wouldn't come up here. Since we'd moved in together we'd learned not to intrude upon one another. I left him alone with Dylan and he left me alone with Jesse. And now he'd leave me alone with Craig. I swallowed hard, thinking about how Marco was really the only one who ever knew how I had felt about Craig.

He dumped the coke onto the square mirror and chopped it up into neat lines with his razor blade like he'd done it a thousand times before. Maybe he had. I'd learned long ago not to believe anything Craig said. I knew exactly why he lied all the time. It was because of his dad. I did the same thing because of my drunk mother. A nice lie was better than the harsh truth any day.

He looked at me with the bright eyes of the addict about to get his fix. A little warning flare shot up in my brain again and I heard the whispered voice of my conscience, 'Ellie, don't do this,' But I ignored that voice like I had a thousand times before.

He went first and I watched him, watched how he blocked one nostril and breathed in the line through the other, watched how he sniffed hard and wiped the white traces of the powder away with the back of his hand.

"Okay. Your turn," he said, and I did what he had done and felt it burning up into my nose. A second later I felt this lovely burst of energy and I had the thought that things were actually right with the world. I smiled and looked at him and realized just how much I loved him still.

"Oh. Wow," I said, and stared at him, drinking him in. His lovely long eyelashes and full red lips, and I watched how his dark curly hair fell into his eyes as he leaned over and snorted another line. I noticed how his collar bones jutted out beneath his skin, and I noticed the hollowness of his cheeks.

"Like it?" he said, and something about the low, breathy way he said that made me think about sex. Sex that I've never had. I knew he had, though. I licked my lips, thinking about how he was so much more experienced than me in almost everything. I laid back on his bed, put one leg up and stared at him through a sheath of my red hair.

"Yeah," I said, and I liked the feeling of him against me when he laid back on the bed.

"Good," he said, leaning over, and I could feel the rough stubble on his cheeks against my thigh. It kind of tingled and spread from there to everywhere.


	3. Chapter 3

He lifted his head again, and I felt almost mesmerized. Craig. How my heart had yearned for him, ached for him. I thought I was okay with him always choosing someone else over me. Now, feeling strangely energized, strangely happy, I realized I wasn't okay with that. Not at all.

"Craig," I said, and he leaned toward me, closing his eyes. I felt his lips brush against mine, tasting sweet, tasting like I'd always imagined. I put my arms around him, felt his smooth skin beneath my palms, beneath my fingertips.

I had class at some point today, but I didn't even care. Everywhere he touched me tingled with the electricity. I could stay in this room, on this bed with him all day. A lifetime. I listened to his breathing start to quicken, the quick shallow breaths and my breathing was the same. He kissed me hungrily and I responded, despite the seed of insecurity. Was he used to experienced girls? Even Manny had more experience than me.

He kissed my neck, and I could see the top of his head, feel his lips against my skin, and I closed my eyes as his hands trailed down my body, and I was glad for his experience as I felt things I'd never felt before.

Breathless, I watched him slip out of his jeans, and through the coke energized haze I felt troubled. Did I really want to do this? Sure, I had loved Craig with a puppy dog yearning since the summer before grade 12. I'd wanted him to do everything to me under the sun, everything it was possible to do, things I didn't even have names for. But I'd wanted that when it wasn't a possibility. Before this, my back arched as his fingers and tongue did things that were beyond indescribable, before this he had hardly touched me.

Could I stop him? Should I? I had wanted it to be all special, dorky as that sounded. I wanted to be sure about love with whoever I had sex with. What was I sure about with Craig? I was sure that he made me feel like I could hardly think. I was sure that when he looked at me a certain way I felt these stirrings, like something twisting so deliciously inside of me. But did he love me? Was this him or the drugs? If we hadn't just done these lines together he wouldn't be doing this right now. Was this love? I loved him, I knew that. But that was one sided and not enough.

"Craig," I said, pushing him away even though it hurt me to do that. I wanted to not think, to just let him do whatever he wanted, to go with the flow for once. But I put my hands on his shoulders and pushed him, and despite that he continued to kiss me, touch me, and I let my hands slip from him, felt him against me again.

"Ellie…" The way he said my name, that school boy voice of his but deeper, scratchy almost. How could I refuse him anything? He slipped out of his boxers and I almost couldn't look, and the door wasn't even all the way closed.

I was high. I knew that. I felt good, I felt like I could do things and that things were okay. It was a rush. Laying back on the bed, and Craig on top of me, moving his hips just so. I closed my eyes and let myself be swept away.

00000000000000000000000000

I was kind of in shock. I had sex for the first time, with Craig, high on coke. We didn't even use protection. Shit. What if I was pregnant? I held my head in my hands and watched him get dressed. Boxer short, jeans, and he yanked the zipper up and looked at me with this detached guilt. Despite still feeling kind of high, I was starting to feel low. He didn't love me, that guilt look said. Maybe it was just sex for sex's sake. He was just a slut, or I was.

"Do you have to go to class?" he said, and now he wasn't even really looking at me. I cleared my throat. Oh, I made a mistake. This didn't mean anything, not to him. He was a drug addict, probably, and he just did what felt good despite the consequences and despite who might get hurt. But wasn't that how he acted before the drugs? I nodded to myself. He'd always been like that.


	4. Chapter 4

I touched my fingertips to the mirror in the bathroom, whispered at myself, "what have you done?" Everything was in sharp focus. That was the cocaine. I could still feel it. I could still feel every place that Craig had touched me, inside and out.

I leaned my head against the mirror, and so it was like twins leaning against each other for support. What I couldn't stop thinking about was Manny. He was still, technically, with Manny. And I was technically with Jessie. I rubbed at my nose, saw the little bits of white powder there. I guess I was technically screwed.

Marco had already left by the time I got out of the shower. I didn't know where Craig was and I was afraid to look for him. What would I say to him? I vowed to be good, to never do drugs or have casual sex again. What did I think it was, 1985 or something?

I rushed to school, my little legs carrying me as fast as they could, and I remembered grade 10 when I had that internship and my mom was drinking herself into oblivion and I was always running everywhere, always falling short. I thought I'd left that girl behind but here she was, running right beside me. I grabbed a coffee, figuring some more caffeine on top of the cocaine would be a good thing. Why not? I had a lot of things to do, might as well ingest all the stimulants I could.

I was sitting in front of my blank computer screen, dreading seeing Jessie. He'd know I had sex with Craig just by looking at me. I was sure it was written all over my face. I bit my fingernail, staring at nothing, seeing Jessie out of the corner of my eye. He looked so nice, his trim figure in those neat jeans, button up striped shirt, kind of editor messy casual. I felt bad that I had cheated on him. I felt a pang about it. How could I keep all of these things off of my face?

"Hey, Frosh," he said, and I cringed at the nickname. He glanced at my blank computer screen and chuckled, and I didn't even have the strength to glare at him. It was blank. I had nothing. I supposed I deserved his laughter.

"I thought you were doing some story on Craig," he said, and when he said Craig's name it was loaded with all this insecurity and jealousy and contempt that it was, well, kind of amazing. If Craig threatened him it was because he liked me, or maybe even loved me. And what had I done? I bit my lip, shook my head. If only Jesse knew.

"Yeah, well, I don't know," I said.

"That's okay," he said, brightening a little as the topic strayed from Craig and my stupid story about him, "Taking Back Sunday are in town and you can interview them," He smiled then, a restrained smile but I knew he'd had to pull major strings to get me this interview.

Just then Craig came around the corner, his dark sunglasses on, his black leather jacket on. He looked like such a rock star, but I knew the glasses were to hide his telltale pupils. I knew how he hid inside of jackets. But he looked all confident, and I'd forgotten that I told him to meet me here so we could do the interview. Shit, shit. I saw Jesse turn towards him and try to wither him with his vicious stare. Poor Jesse. He didn't know that Craig could be oblivious when he needed to be.

"Hi, Ellie. Are you ready?" he said, holding the edge of the wall with his hand, probably for balance. Jesse was glaring at me now, and Craig took off his sunglasses and I saw the extreme dilation of his pupils, the hazel just a thin ring around the black. I kept chewing on my fingernail.

"Uh, I don't know…" I said, and Jesse jumped in.

"Listen, Frosh, you have that interview with Taking Back Sunday,"

I looked at Jesse, his sharp expression, his barely contained contempt for Craig. Then I looked at Craig, looking down at me like he'd forgotten all about what we had done this morning. Like some obedient dog he'd come here this morning because I'd asked him to. Maybe that's how his life was now. On one side he did all these drugs and slept with whoever he wanted to and on the other side he kept his word and lived up to his responsibilities. Maybe things were split like that for him, now. I shook my head, looked at my ragged fingernail. Felt speared between the gazes of these two men.

"Yeah, Jesse, I know," I said, standing up, taking a step toward Craig, "but I told Craig to come here and I'm going to interview him…I can do both," I said, and Jesse looked at me doubtfully, and Craig smiled his wide, victorious smile. So I guess he'd won, for now.


	5. Chapter 5

**Back in the garage, Craig's garage, or really Joey's. But it was changed. There were boxes everywhere with quick scrawled labels in black marker-pantry, living room, kitchen. Rooms packed neatly into cardboard. Craig had taken off his dark glasses for good now, I saw them on the edge of a wooden table I'd never seen before.**

**I asked him questions, my little recorder held out to him to record his responses. He smiled quickly, and I could almost feel his pulse racing. He said he thought everyone would be waiting with open arms.**

"**Were they?" I said, and smiled a little smile, and he shook his head, his expression unchanging.**

"**Nope,"**

**I leaned against the table. Nope. Just me. Maybe Manny. I licked my lips and looked outside, at the trees changing for September the way they did every year, dark reds against orange against yellow. It always made me sad.**

"**Hey, El," he said, his voice dropping conspiratorially, and I knew what was coming. I saw him reaching into his jeans' pocket for the little packet of white powder and I said to myself that I wouldn't do it. I wouldn't do more coke with him, I wouldn't follow him down this path.**

"**Want a line?" he said, and I nodded before I knew what I was doing. Why couldn't I refuse him anything?**

**0000000000000000000**

**Everything was a little brighter after that first line, and when he leaned toward me to kiss me I closed my eyes and let myself get swept up in it, in him. I'd wanted him for so long, I just didn't know if I wanted my heart racing and my head spinning along side of it.**

"**Ellie," he said between kisses, between his hands reaching for my shirt and the button to my jeans. Leaned up against the rough wooden table, I didn't care. I loved when he said my name that way.**

**When my phone vibrated I wanted to ignore it. I knew it was Jesse texting about Taking Back Sunday, I didn't even have to read it to know that. It was like Jesse knew I was with Craig and wanted to ruin it. Maybe Jesse was psychic. I tried to pull away from Craig, tried to untangle myself from his embrace.**

"**Craig," I said, pushing him away. His eyes were fever bright. What was I doing? What about Manny and Jesse? Right now, in this garage with the sun streaming in and the coke tingling in my veins, they just couldn't seem to matter.**

**I scanned the text and I could hear Craig's fast breathing, saw him leaning against the table where I'd pushed him, and he was so sexy, so everything I wanted. I bit my lip. Maybe I could just blow this off.**

"**It's Jesse, he says Taking Back Sunday are at the club-"**

**I saw the distance in his eyes, saw him detaching himself from me. I didn't want that to happen.**

"**Listen, come with me," I said urgently, taking his hand.**

"**What? No…" he tried to pull away, but I insisted.**

"**You can meet them, it'll be great," I said, and I was thinking I could interview the band and then get back to Craig, get back to where I wanted to be.**


	6. Chapter 6

I tried to smile at him in the car, but my smile felt too wide. He was driving. I didn't trust myself to drive, not after that line. While he drove, his over bright eyes squinting at the road, I studied him like I always did. His large eyes, that funny hazel, his full lips, and I felt them again on my body. Craig. It wasn't healthy, I knew that, the way I felt about him. What was I doing? Having sex just because it was him, when that sort of flew in the face of my principles? He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, he tapped the foot that wasn't controlling the pedals against the floorboards. He was a mass of energy, but so was I. I felt it coursing through me, too.

He could be manic. Where did high on coke end and mania begin? The lines were blurring. Despite the hours upon hours that I had hung out with Craig, I'd never really been exposed to his manic side. He'd been well medicated by that summer, having come off of his disastrous stint running away and getting beaten up by some homeless street kid. Ashley had seen it. Ashley had borne the brunt of his mania. So I'd been exempt. Maybe now, here it was. Ashley had told me about it, agonized over it with me. She told me how she just couldn't seem to get through to him, like he wasn't really there. I was kind of feeling that way, I felt the distance. Was it him, though, or me?

"Okay," Craig said, pulling into a parking space. I licked my lips, felt my pulse racing. He smiled at me, his thousand watt smile. I'd do anything for him when he smiled at me that way.

The club looked weird during the day, like a set for a play that was only half completed, unpainted trees and houses made out of flimsy cardboard. I saw Jesse, and he smiled at me, his tight, professional smile, and he frowned at Craig. I didn't think Craig was capable of noticing. I saw the band milling around, their bleach blond hair long, their eyes sleepy, clutching cups of coffee. I could do this. Interview them, please Jesse, finish my interview with Craig, sneak off with him back to Joey's garage, or to my house, somewhere, anywhere.

Jesse tried to get rid of Craig, insulting him again. Craig was so high. His eyes were all pupil. You could practically see the energy coming off of him in waves. He was almost totally ignoring Jesse, which was making Jesse even madder. I squinted at him, his neat editor's button up shirt, arms crossed over his chest. He wanted to get a rise from Craig. It almost wasn't fair. It wasn't Craig's fault I lusted over him, obsessed over him. Was it?

"Yeah, uh, Ellie, I better go," Craig said, only agreeing with Jesse because that was what he wanted to be doing in the first place. He hadn't really wanted to come along with me, I'd dragged him here.

My mouth hung open. I couldn't stop him from leaving, not if he really wanted to. I couldn't stop him from leaving this club, from leaving Toronto, leaving me. I felt it almost as a physical pain. What was it about this reckless, unreliable drug addict that had me so captivated? What? I had Jesse, solid, reliable, and here. Why couldn't this be enough for me?

Suddenly I felt tired, used. The underlying tension between Jesse and Craig was tiring, although I could see it was only one way. Jesse felt the tension, Craig didn't care. It made me angry, furious. I hated expending all this energy caring when he couldn't be bothered to care at all.

It was like I chose to like/love the person who would cause me the maximum amount of hurt. I'd chosen Marco, who was gay. I'd chosen Sean, who was repressed and angry and bailed on me. And I'd chosen Craig. I shook my head, suddenly so sad for myself that I could cry. What was I doing?

I sucked in my breath, tried to shrug it off. It didn't matter. Jesse and Craig didn't matter. I had a job to do, an interview to do. That's what I'd do. It was time to focus. I sat down with the guitarist while Craig got into a conversation with the singer, and my evil little mind was hoping that might cause him to stay. Jesse had retreated to a corner, frowning. I smiled, tossed my hair, trying to channel Paige. I could hear her voice in my head, 'hon, don't let these things get to you,'

I wouldn't crumble under the weight of these things. I asked insipid stupid question after insipid stupid question to this guitarist I couldn't care less about. I thought about Craig, about the way his hands felt trailing down my body, the way it felt when he'd kissed my neck. That had caused a shiver I could still feel.


End file.
